There are at least three different kinds of ‘self-determination’ even with respect to national sovereignty. The first, with which the notion is most commonly associated, is the granting or winning of national independence, usually from a colonial power. Full statehood is then symbolized by entry into the United Nations. Extraordinary inequities of representation have resulted. Vast, multinational conglomerates such as India or Indonesia have become single nation-states, while dozens of tiny communities have also entered the world arena with the same formal status. Many of these have been islands. Yet the Falklands have not been able to achieve even this sovereignty. Had this been possible—if the Falklands could have emerged as a viable, English-speaking nation-state—then whatever Argentina’s claims and feelings, the independence of the Falklands as a South American country would have been legitimate.
It was not possible. Other small islands luxuriate in statehood. Grenada, for example, is very much smaller than the Falklands (137 square miles as compared to 4,700). Yet Granada has a population of around 100,000. It has even seen a popular, peaceful transfer of power in 1979 from an overtly capitalist to an avowedly socialist administration, a clear sign of genuine capacity for self-government, whatever else one might think. In Grenada there are peasants, capable of ensuring their own survival, and the community as a whole is large enough to have some degree of economic independence.
The Falklands community consists of no more than a small village with a few outlying hamlets. Except that it is not even that: it is a company settlement, entirely dominated by the external network of ownership and economic directives that established it originally. It is said by those who have been there that the Faklands have been maligned by their reputation for bleakness. Doubtless one could say the same for the moon, which is also beautiful but inhospitable. Basically, the Falklands are at the edge of being uninhabitable; even trees can barely grow there so unrelenting are its winds. Only a company that sought to make a tidy profit from the vast extent of its grazing, and a maritime power that desired to control its harbour (mainly to prevent its use by enemy shipping), could ensure a degree of settlement. Among its inhabitants the administration, the local officials and pastor and the clerks are mainly supplied from outside. Because the Falklands are thus exploited on a global basis, some were needed locally to live there. But they could not establish themselves as a viable, autonomous community. Indeed, even as a sheep station, the Falklands are sinking into desuetude. Hence the implausibility of the present inhabitants forming a self-governing Falklands nation. There are only 1,300 native born residents on the islands at present, of which about 300 are children. 600 families can hardly form a country. Nor, sensibly, do they want self-determination. In 1980 the islanders sent an ‘Earnest Request’ to the Prime Minister asking her ‘to reconsider the terms of the British Nationality Bill in order to accord full British citizenship to all the islanders of British descent’. (Their plea was rejected.)
The second type of demand for ‘self-determination’ is the important one claimed by ‘stateless peoples’ such as the Kurds, Basques, Biafrans or Palestinians. Their only relevance to this discussion is that when groups like the Kurds, for example, span territorial borders, their demand for their own sovereignty also becomes an external issue for the bordering states.
The third type of disputed ‘self-determination’ is that which comes about when the territorial claims of two states overlap and the allegiance of communities in one extend to the other (as in Ulster). The Falklands dispute is a variant of this type, as the British Government bases the defence of its control over the Falklands not on the grounds that the islands are part of the UK, whatever its inhabitants might think, but rather that its inhabitants desire to remain under the Crown whatever Argentina might propose. The question of principle here, then, is whether a local community subject to ‘overlap’ has the ‘right’ to determine which sovereignty it should come under; or whether, because that community is not itself demanding its own sovereignty, its fate can be ultimately decided by others.
Despite all the cant in the House of Commons, it is a choice irony that its own ‘Churchillian’ experience demonstrates that the wishes of the local community need not be regarded as sacrosanct. Take for example this argument in The Times: ‘the wishes of the population concerned would seem to be a decisively important element in any solution that can hope to be regarded as permanent’ (my emphasis). Is this not a well-rounded formulation of the right to self-determination of a community such as the Falklands? Yet the reader should pause for reflection if he or she nodded with agreement. For this quote from a Times editorial does not in fact concern the Falklands. In this instance it actually is writing about something as important as the outbreak of the Second World War. The passage comes from the conclusion to its lead editorial of 7 September 1938, which argued the merits of appeasement. It reads in full:
In any case the wishes of the population concerned would seem to be a decisively important element in any solution that can hope to be regarded as permanent, and the advantages to Czechsolovakia of becoming a homogeneous state might conceivably outweigh the obvious disadvantages of losing the Sudeten German districts of the borderland.
The argument was the central ‘principled’ expression of appeasement of which The Times was an advocate; it was the intellectual justification for the Munich agreement which soon followed. What happened was simple enough in broad outline. Over two million ethnic Germans lived inside the borders of Czechoslovakia, in the Sudetenland. They were predominantly sympathetic to the German state and demanded their full national ‘rights’ as Germans. The Czechs naturally opposed such demands and attempted to limit the autonomy of the local population. Hitler sought to support them. ‘Appeasement’ was the agreement by the British and French governments to allow the Sudeten Germans the ‘right’ to self-determination and hence to affiliate to the Reich.2 This dismembered Czechoslovakia by depriving it of its critical, defensible mountain border and much of its armaments industry, and left it exposed to subsequent German action (it made it a ‘homogenous state’, with ‘obvious disadvantages …’).
It is clear today that whatever local, community self-government the Sudeten Germans should have been allowed, they should not have been granted ‘self-determination’ when this meant their affiliating to the sovereignty of their ‘kith and kin’. Historically, then, it is amusing that those who argue against the Falklanders’ wishes being paramount in determining their national identity, should be the ones charged with ‘appeasement’. For in fact those who favoured appeasement, and decisively weakened Britain’s position in 1938 by allowing the dismemberment of Czechoslavkia, were precisely those who argued that the wishes of a local community should determine its national allegiance. By 16 September 1938, Chamberlain was convinced that self-determination was the ‘only solution’. He defended his concessions on the grounds that ‘Hitler did not want more than self-determination’,3 and the Munich agreement itself was signed two weeks later. Yet in their urge to re-emphasize the ‘lessons’ of that time, those who support the British war in the South Atlantic have gone even further than warning us against another ‘appeasement’. In Authors Take Sides on the Falklands, two contributors specifically mention the Sudetenland, in the belief that it supports their case. Bevis Hillier says of the Argentine takeover, ‘There is principle at stake—the same principle as was at stake when Hitler invaded the Sudetenland and Czechoslovakia.’ While in even more trenchant terms, David Holbrook equally makes nonsense of history as he argues that, ‘the government’s action was right, and the only possible one’. ‘As for the British Left!’, he continues, ‘They have responded despicably! Have they forgotten the Spanish War and non-intervention? Have they forgotten the Sudetenland and appeasement?’4
It should not be suggested that Neville Chamberlain was any more deeply attached to the real principle of self-determination than Margaret Thatcher. On the contrary, the Cabinet minutes of the time apparently reveal his political
selectivity in this respect. ‘Speaking personally, the Prime Minister said that he did not object to the principle of self-determination, or, indeed, attach very much importance to it. What he wanted was a fair and peaceful settlement. It was the practical and not the theoretical difficulties of the situation which concerned him.’5 We can be sure that Thatcher felt exactly the same way over Zimbabwe.
Indeed, we can say that the Second World War established as a cardinal principle that communities do not have the exclusive right to determine which state they should be affiliated to, and that their wishes have to be balanced against geo-political realities and other human rights. In general, rights anyway cease to be meaningful when abstracted from circumstances; principles are needed as guides to the complexities of the world not as a means of liquidating them. In addition, even on its own terms the demand of the Falklanders is ambiguous. They may call for continued rule from London, but that also means that London is entitled to exercise its sovereignty according to its own definition of its interests, and may thus dispose of the islands should it so wish. The UK’s sovereignty cannot be unilaterally arbitrated by the Falklands population alone. While attention must be paid to the needs of the local people, neither philosophically, nor logically, nor historically, are we obliged to conclude that the Kelpers have the right to self-determination—especially if that means that the Falkland Islands must stay British.
2. Territorial Sovereignty
We can now see how the issue of self-determination has been confused in the Falklands crisis. The ‘principle’ is never absolute and it applies primarily to the rights of a definable community to its own nation-statehood. The case of the Falklands is one in which the local inhabitants are not able to exercise their own self-determination, and as a consequence, by claiming an allegiance to a far-away state, have created a question of overlapping sovereignties on the ground. This means that because the Falkland Islands is not a country or a potential country on its own, it has to belong to some other country in terms of sovereignty. Its sovereignty, then, is relative. It belongs either to Britain or to Argentina. I will argue that in this case it should be regarded as the possession of the latter. But this is strictly an argument by default. The Falklands are Argentinian rather than British, because they cannot credibly be independent. It is a relative argument of geography and sentiment, not of history and morality.
In terms of geography, the Falklands do not belong to Argentina merely because the islands are part of the Argentinian continental shelf. By that argument, Britain would have the right to overrun Ireland, and France the right to take its revenge on Britain for the defeat of Napoleon. The geographical argument is overwhelming in its actuality, only because if the islands have to belong to one country or another as a dependency, then clearly they should belong to that country of whose continental shelf they form a part, rather than a country more than 6,000 miles away in the other hemisphere.
So far as opinion is concerned, Argentina bases its claim to the islands upon history. The Malvinas were taken from them by the British 150 years ago, and as Latin Americans they recognize the Hispanic borders of their continent only. To accord any legitimacy to such an argument is both dangerous and absurd. The world would be at war for another 150 years if every such contention were re-opened. Mexico’s claim on Texas is far stronger than Argentina’s claim on the Falkland Islands. Similarly, China would have a case to make out for Siberia; Poland on the Ukraine; Germany on Poland. Nationalist sentiments rooted in a partly mythological, partly accurate version of the past, should not sway us. One people’s version of history, however passionately felt, will disparage and belittle the history experienced by other peoples. Argentina’s nationalist perspective is no reason in itself for conceding sovereignty.
There is, however, good reason to take those feelings into account in one practical sense: They exist today. What other attitudes should be balanced against them? Whatever the Mexicans might feel about Texas, Americans know that Texas belongs to the USA. In the case of the Falklands, however, there is no such balance of sentiment. Had you asked any number of Argentinians at the beginning of this year about the Falklands, they would have told you the Malvinas belonged to them. That is not to say that they would have endorsed a reckless takeover designed to divert popular attention from Argentina’s economic plight. But whatever their political belief, its people regard the Falklands as part of their land. Had you asked any British citizen by contrast, most would not even have known where you were talking about.
In her Cheltenham speech, Thatcher asked, ‘Why do we have to be invaded before we throw aside our selfish aims …’. But were ‘we’ ever invaded in Britain? Even after the Falklands War this assertion seems bizarre; before it would have been incomprehensible. On the afternoon that Argentina seized the islands, for example, would an MP have telephoned his mistress to say, ‘I’m afraid tonight’s off darling, we’ve been invaded’? If he had, he would certainly have been open to misinterpretation. Yet soon after the event, in New. Society Adam-Roberts considered the question from the point of international law and wrote with academic solemnity: ‘The Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands imposed a foreign military occupation regime on a part of British territory for the first time since the Second World War.’6 The same point was repeated fanatically by Enoch Powell. But it has a strange, deeply imperial ring. For the Falklands are only British territory in the sense that they are a British possession. They are not part of Britain. Thus there is a massive inequality of popular sentiment in Argentina and Britain respectively, over the fate of the Falklands. This is and will remain a decisive factor in the resolution of their ultimate destiny.
The case for saying that the Falklands are Argentina’s is firm. There was an act of aggression by the Junta, but it was not territorial aggression. Sooner or later, we can be sure that eventually Argentina’s flag will be raised over them with general international recognition, whether or not other flags, such as that of the UN or even the Union Jack fly beside it. Nonetheless, the assignation of sovereignty is not a straightforward matter. The case is complicated in a central and important respect by the wishes and feelings of the existing islanders.
3. Restoring ‘Freedom’ to the Falklands
‘Even though the position and circumstances of the people who live in the Falkland Islands are uppermost in our minds …’ Michael Foot said nothing of their actual circumstances. One scours the great debate of 3 April for relevant detail. Rowlands said that the people there discussed even obscure Parliamentary questions, which would make the Kelpers one of the most idiosyncratic and articulate communities on earth. Other evidence contradicts this unlikely idea. So before considering what it means to say that the British are ‘liberating’ the Falklanders (Thatcher), or seeking to ensure their ‘freedom’ (Hattersley), perhaps we should enquire into the realities of their ‘marvellous’ British way of life.
A major source is the Shackleton Report of 1976, undertaken by a survey team headed by Lord Shackleton, son of the famous polar explorer.7 Its purpose was to make an inventory the resources of the islands and ascertain their potential for development. Because it argues the case for investment in the Falklands in a professional manner, the Report strives to be objective about the problems while also seeking to put prospects in the best possible light. Thus it is frank about the bleak future for sheep-raising on the islands, even though this currently generates 99% of the colony’s exports (p. 31). Due to poor soil, hostile weather and a decline in the quality of the grassland, the local wool industry ‘has been in slow but steady decline since 1919’ (pp. 118-23). On the other hand, not to miss the positive side of the picture, the Report notes that ‘Penguins also help to improve the vegetation by their trampling activity’ (p. 87).
The main theme of the Shackleton Report is dependency: the dependency on the Falkland Islands Company for trade, and the personal and psychological dependency of the people who live there, many virtually enserfed to its domain. Economically, the colony i
s ‘a territory totally dependent on imports for most of its consumption and capital goods’ (p. 31). The Falkland Islands Company (FIC) exercises a virtual monopoly over land (of which it owns 40%), shipping, auctions (which decide the price of wool) and banking (p. 19). In Port Stanley, ‘there is little choice of employers’ (p. 79) and the FIC-owned ‘West Store’ dominates retailing with two-thirds of all sales in Stanley and half of the sales in the islands (p. 243). Between 1955 and 1975 the Company transferred £5 million to the United Kingdom in profits (p. iv). That might not sound like very much, but at the rate of £250,000 a year, it meant in 1974 the equivalent of more than 20% of the total income of all the inhabitants. This, however, seems to be more a measure of the poverty of the majority of the Falklanders than an index of the lucrative situation of the Company.
What, then, is life like for the people who live there? The Falklands community seems to have been, before the recent war, a highly stratified and divided set of groups, as small communities often tend to be. In this instance the dependence on a single export product, itself controlled in the main through large holdings run by managers with a workforce of farmhands, must have exacerbated matters. The presence of government administrators posted from Britain, with much higher educational levels than the low standards found amongst the indigenous people, also added to this internal sense of strong social divisions (p. 81). The Shackleton Report gives the following table, based on Falkland Islands Government information, of the 914 registered incomes, in 1974.
Income Range (£) Total No.
below 500 130
500–999 253
1.000–1,499 303
1,500–1,999 106
2,000–2,499 59
2,500–2,999 22
3,000–3,499 15
Iron Britannia Page 22
